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submitted by Lavarekira to tipofmyjoystick

I’m a commentator for a tournament of nightmares. The hunt is over.

The beginning of it all.
If you’re lost and looking for more info, the NFC has provided extra context for background on the fighters.
Where we last left off; “This is where the NFC gets its roster from.”
-
I backed away towards the elevator, every moment I spent down there just filling me with more dread and disgust.
“W-we need to get back upstairs, talk to someone.” I muttered, hot bile rising in my throat. Nelle steadfast as she stared ahead at the sea of bodies stuck in perpetual limbo, some fighting in vain against the tubes while others simply groaned and twitched.
“I see you’ve found my nightmare division. Good, that makes this easier.” The sound of locusts pounding against my eardrums, the smell of sulphur and rot. An undulating black shape descending from the rafters on the other side of the room. Abaddon.
“I had nothing when I found myself here, you know. I was but a wretched thing, barely clinging to this reality; no sounds, no strength, no purpose. It was countless years later when I focused enough and was able to listen to the disorder of the universe that I tapped into it, became one with it… was inspired by it.” He looked down at his outstretched arms, rapidly rising and descending in structure as the locusts swarmed around it, giving form to whatever he willed. “I do not recall where I was before this, but I recall the pain… the loss. I am still incomplete, even now. The only thing that makes it stronger…”
He casts his gaze around the room and lifts his arms, the locusts screeching as they descend on dozens of the hospital beds, willing them into activity until the tubes come to life and the machine bellows as it mass produces more monstrosities. I can do nothing, my feet are rooted to the ground in fear at this unholy action, I don’t even see Nelle as my gaze fixates on Abaddon to the point of tunnel vision. He cackles, and it sounds like the pained yells of every competitor as their bones are broken, teeth are smashed and muscles torn. The sounds of every one of their opponents in overzealous glee as they decimate their enemies.
“Is my ever expanding nightmare division.”
Nelle steps forward and blocks my sight for a moment, the room pulls more into focus and I can feel my feet move. She’s drinking from a flask that she throws to the floor in front of me, wiping her mouth and glowing faintly as she draws her blade. The black and red flask sporting a hexagon symbol emblazoned over the front with the words etched: “The Hunter’s Dream: When the battle looms and your senses must be at their sharpest. Your vigour will find no end, nor will your bloodlust.”
“Everything will be fine if you get back on that elevator and don’t turn around, Sal.” She breathed, gritting her teeth as if holding back something. “You need to trust me.” The machine was spitting out countless horrors at an exponential rate; they were forming innumerable hands and tendrils with hundreds of eyes filled with an insatiable hunger. Anger directed in one direction; us. I protested, but my body was already taking steps back without my realising. I never took my eyes off of them as I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button, Nelle standing in front of that unceasing nightmare and his horde as the doors closed on me.
Sinking back against the door, I watched the lights and tried in vain to cover my ears from the sounds of fighting beneath me growing fainter as I ascended. I thought about how I got into this mess, how people I admired were having their lives inexorably changed or taken from them in this tournament. But most of all, I was ashamed of how utterly useless I was throughout it all. My voice and my mind are all I have. How often are they gonna get me out of a pinch?
I’ll be honest; I felt like sinking into the floor and simply becoming a part of the furniture in this pit. I wanted nothing more in that moment than for the elevator to never stop rising, to keep me stuck in this purgatory between the brutality below and the impending struggle above. I sank my head into my knees and sobbed, desperate for a way out.
The elevator doors opened to the sounds of bustling pundits rushing to hedge their bets, fans eager to buy more strange snacks and experts arguing over who will win in the finals. But through it all, I heard those two voices over the commotion, a hand outstretched as I craned my head up.
“Oof… having a rough one, huh?” The first voice, a young man asked.
“Well duh, what would YOU do in a situation like this where you seem to be the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on, Tristan?” The other voice of a young woman retorted. He chuckled.
“Mm, suppose you’re right. Would probably do what I did last time, take one for the team.”
She sighed, and I saw her crouched in front of me, form blurred through tears but fiery red hair and a warm smile still visible. The man leaned against the door frame to stop it closing.
“Hey, Sal. You won’t know who we are and honestly, that’s not what matters. We’re just here to do our bit.” I took her hand, and she hoisted me up.
“Passing something on, we owed a favour. We wouldn’t be here without that bit of divine intervention.”
He outstretched his hand to reveal a worn down black iPod that I took into my hands, holding it like an egg. The screen glimmering to life with a small crack on the corner, turning it over, revealed a slew of stickers and a small note;
“Property of Siggurd “Ros” Jonnson. If found, Kindly return or face a monumental kick to the balls.”
“What is this for?” I asked, incredulously inspecting it and trying to uncover whatever secret it had inside. “There’s a playlist on there, you’ll know which one and what song to play when the time comes. Music is a remarkable conductor, an uhh… “LiveWire” for the bonds between us… or so they say. All I know is it worked for us and it should, by extension, work for you. We’ll see you again, Sal. When you venture Beneath The Static.”
My eyes widened at that phrase, but as I looked up to reply, they were gone. In their place was an usher for the NFC, reminding me to get to my booth. I acquiesced and went straight there.
Upon arriving at the booth, however, I saw two things that struck me; the first being a new soundboard affixed to my headset with some perspex glass to protect me, the former undoubtedly due to Zunks outburst from earlier and the latter from slightly too energetic competitors. The other thing I spied was a note resting on top of The Compendium. It was neat, stamped with the Compendium seal and in a handwriting not dissimilar to what was in the book:
Sal,
This tournament is coming to a close and you’re going to see things you don’t want to. Things that will hurt. But if you believe in anything while you’re here, make it this:
You are only as powerless as you let yourself feel. You are only as in control as you allow yourself to be. You can be the background noise in a busy room or the light that punctures the darkness.
But either way, you’ll always be my friend.
- N”
Putting it to one side and affixing my headset, I looked over the iPod once more, scrolling through a series of playlists ranging from “BE-SPOKE and other Haunted Albums” to “Wendy’s vibe sesh” and even “Hotel Inertia beats to relax and scream to”. The guy has a good sense of humour, I guess.
But the last one on the list simply read “For S” and upon opening it, a sea of familiarity washed over me. Songs picked out for people I knew from the tournament; Wendy, Nora, Alduin, Zunkle. Then, people I could only vaguely remember in flickering images, but nothing concrete. Krauss, Cheddar, Malachi and Sema, before falling upon the name that stopped my scrolling and pulled at the pit of my stomach;
“Nelle”
As if on cue, a shock wave rippled through the building and the sounds of screeches and groans filled the pit. The pundits looked around, even Alduin seemed perturbed, standing up from her throne and leaning over the balcony, staring at the elevator shaft. We had an hour until the next match and I was still prepping my notes.
“Push play.” A voice whispered in my ear, swirling around me and seeping into my ears, blocking out the sounds of the locusts and mounting screaming. It was sweet, saccharine in nature with a hint of malice laying in every absence it left. My bones rattled, but I felt no threat. I was nothing more than a puppet in that moment as it urged me to plug the iPod in and hit play.
“Take the next step. Provide the backdrop. Set it in motion.” It cooed as I obeyed, unable to resist the siren call of whatever this disembodied voice wished for. As soon as I clicked play, the song ringing out and filling the pit, the voice simply said “good, so it begins”.
The elevator surged up and smashed into the foundations. Sending dust and mortar across the venue, coating it in a thick fog. From within, a sea of locusts could be seen rushing around, small scuffles and the sounds of steel clashing could be heard amid the chaos.
“What the fuck is that noise? Sal… why did you…” Alduin looked over briefly, listening to the song before her eyes fell and she bit her lip. “Well, I guess I’m not the only one who knows how to pluck at their heartstrings. But at least it goes out with a bang. Bravo, Sal…” It didn’t click there and then what she meant, but I had a job to do and I stuck to it. Playing ignorant was not a strong suit of mine.
“Fight fans, we seem to be getting into things a little early. That sound of locusts can only mean one thing; our NFC Abyss Champion Abaddon The Destroyer has someone in his sights and that is surely not going to end well! He’s not waiting for the finals to fight again, I think he has some punishment he wants to dish out!’
The smoke began to clear and two figures could be seen standing on opposite sides. First was Abaddon; uncloaked from the waist up and gripping one of his swords with a clear sense of urgency in his body language, the skull’s features bending to resemble something close to surprise.
On the other side stood Nelle, cloak torn to shreds and body covered in uncountable lacerations, one in particular bleeding profusely. But she was unperturbed, knife still dutifully held out in front of her as she stared her enemy down.
“Taking on a creature like you, the filth of the pit… it showed me that I forgot what a damn good hunt felt like. If there’s one thing to thank you for, it’s reminding me of that feeling.” She grinned and ran forward, sliding underneath Abaddon’s legs and slicing one of his thighs as he stood there dumbfounded, unable to counter. “You can be the most badass creature if you want, but everything has a weakness and I will find yours. The blade will find it too.”
She circled around and put some distance between her and him, keeping her profile low and eyes fixed on him. But as she breathed, blood dripping steadily from the wound, she seemed to hone in on the song and her entire frame changed.
She heard something in that song that seemed to rouse her from that focused state. She stood up, craning her neck back and closing her eyes as she smiled, mouthing the words to the song as they echoed through the pit, oblivious to the thread in front of her.
"I'm sorry, darling, but I've been wasting my time rotting the teeth out of my headTrying hard to swallow the sweetest sentiments I can't expressAnd I know that you told me to leave you aloneBut yours is still the only love I've ever known"
“How long has it been, Buck? How long have I been travelling for? All things lead back to the source, don’t they? You knew that… Maybe you always knew that.” Abaddon simply laughed, taking a stride forward, his grip tightening on the sword as he unsheathed it.
Nelle didn’t move.
A sickly black glow emitting from the blade, gnarled fingers expertly wielding it downward to his side as he started moving quicker.
Nelle didn’t move.
The locusts hummed and formed around his dominant arm.
“The NFC Abyss Champ is unleashing what I can only assume is a devastating manoeuvre that Madame Lockwood would do well to avoid… Nelle, MOVE!” I cried, slamming my hand against the screen as the music swelled. Alduin grinned, eye glinting and her hands gripping the balcony.
I could see a tear in Nelle's eye fall delicately from her cheek.
He was within striking range.
In a flash, she stuck the blade between his eyes and dug it deep into his skull. There was an ear-splitting howl. The locusts on his arms dropped to the floor in a death curl, but the sword never fell with it.
It was buried in Nelle’s stomach.
Abaddon backed away, clutching at his head in a frenzied attempt to pull the blade out, more of the accursed winged beasts coming to his aid and cloaking him as he stumbled about the pit. The crowd incensed and screaming expletives at the scene in front of them.
Looking over to Alduin’s throne, she was already walking away.
With some obvious discomfort, he dislodged the blade from his skull and stared at it, the red and black coating of it barely visible now that it’d seeped into his head.
Nelle stumbled back, swaying as she tried to accommodate the weight. A heavy wheezing as she dropped to her knees. From my booth up above, I could do nothing but watch as the final moments unfolded, even my voice failing me as I listened to her speak.
“Buck… The Hunt is over… I’m coming home.”
In that moment of pure serenity, the most sobering of violence shattered it into a million pieces as Abaddon threw the serrated blade with full force, locusts embedded in the hilt and it collided with Nelle’s chest, striking her in the heart.
Terror gripped me like a pneumatic vice as one of the only safety nets I had in this place, a true friend and confidant was cut down in front of me by that abomination, laughing as he walked back to the dug-out to enjoy the spoils of his victory. His opponent, my friend, left in the centre of the pit.
My lips trembling and tears in my eyes, I did what I was hired to do and called the match, only managing to utter one phrase before slamming my headset in disgust and breaking protocol to attend to Nelle;
“All hail the NFC Abyss Champion.”
But my mind was focused on something else, something far more concerning that up until that moment hadn't fully occurred to me;
What would have happened if I hadn't played that song?
And who told me to play it?
-
NEXT: The only thing they fear is her.
submitted by tjaylea to nosleep

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